Light and Blindness
by sydneytbernstein
Summary: Several years after the events of "My Immortal," Ebony once again meets her former headmaster Albert. The two of them must work together to thwart Britney's plans.
1. Prologue

It has been well over a decade since Enoby "Ebony" Way and Helena "Willow" Johnson ran away from their homes in Southern California. It wasn't long that they were living on the streets before they were discovered by a witch and brought to a special school in England for supernatural beings like themselves. The school was called "Hogswords" - a play on the name of a Scottish wizards' school from a popular fantasy book series. The students called it "Hogwarts" because children have no respect for international copyright law.

Ebony and Willow were social misfits at the new school, shunned by the majority of their peers, but they were able to form close friendships with other social outcasts. Willow fondly referred to their circle of friends as "Slytherin" because - and this can't be emphasized enough - she was quite fond of J.K. Rowling's "Harry Potter" series of books. The group included a moody, self-conscious boy who was so used to being called "Vampire" that he no longer answered to his given name; a perky anime fan girl called B'loody Mary; a sensitive, bisexual Croatian of Slovenian descent named Drago; a shopkeeper named Tom who disappeared suddenly under unexplained circumstances; and Jenny. These close friends had many adventures and got into all sorts of mischief, but that is a story for another time.

After graduating from high school, Ebony cut ties with her friends and moved back to California with her true love Drago. The two of them lived happily hidden from the mortals and their world, frozen in time as unaging vampires. Unfortunately, due to her self-imposed seclusion, Enoby was unaware of the nature of the trouble she was about to face.

During Enoby and Willow's four years at Hogswords, the headmaster was a grumpy, over-the-hill curmudgeon named Albert Gendolf. Other members of the faculty included the prim, matronly Siobhan McGill; the harsh, strict "Serious" Spartacus Cerverus; the controlling, fastidious Doris Bridge; the convicted sex offender called "The Snake"; Lumpkin, Snake's partner in crime and sometimes lover who hung around the school despite not officially being employed by them; and the eccentric, self-medicating Sadako "Sinister" Trevolry. Doubts were raised by Professor Bridge about Gendolf's abilities as an administrator due to his advancing age and his contracting of cancer. There were rumours flying about that he had gone senile and had Alzheimer's disease. Ultimately, Gendolf was forcibly removed from his position amid a large scandal (larger than the ones involving drug use and molestation).

Since his expulsion, Gendolf had taken to living underground, both figuratively and literally. Our story opens on Albert spending an evening alone, as he spends most of his evenings.


	2. Chapter 1

"Motherfucker!" Albert Gendolf muttered under his breath as he lifted his head from his book. He looked around. For a moment he told himself that his old ears were just playing tricks on him, but he knew damn well that he couldn't afford to dismiss any sign of danger. What he heard was not one of the familiar sounds of his latest sanctum – the rushing of water or the scurrying of rats' feet. He was sure that he had heard a hoot and he was even surer that there was no creature living in a sewer that sounded like an owl.

He reached over and grabbed his black crystal ball and uttered the incantation as quietly as he could and watched as the ball showed him any life in the immediate vicinity. His fears were immediately confirmed. In the ball, he saw the owl in the tunnels, angrily inching towards him. He could only imagine a few reasons an owl would be in a sewer, and none of them were good news. Someone had sent this owl. It was a familiar. It grasped an envelope in its talons – a message from its master that Albert would not be staying to read.

Moving as swiftly as he could, Albert gathered up his personal effects - his crystal ball, a few books, and a wooden wand - into a black bundle that he hastily tied to the end of his broomstick. He threw on a black cloak that granted its wearer invisibility and walked vertically and ephemerally onto the street above.

It was a short walk from his now abandoned latest dwelling to Times Square, where he would be safe. Albert's pursuer was no doubt a wizard, and no wizard would risk exposing himself to the secular world just to catch a renegade member of his race. The magical beings' slavish devotion to secrecy made them so much easier to evade.

Once he was securely surrounded by hurrying people, Albert cast off his cloak and drew a pack of cigarettes from the pocket of his black leather pants. If there was ever a time when he needed a smoke, this was it. He made a gesture designed to make onlookers think he had a lighter and lit the cigarette on the end of his thumb.

"Hey, man!" a stranger approached, wearing jeans and a red plaid flannel shirt. "Could I bum a smoke?"

Gendolf sighed. Of course, nobody noticed a man appearing out of nowhere, but the moment he tries to enjoy some tobacco, the pests come crawling out of the woodwork. "Sure," he relented, taking the cigarette from its pack.

"Thanks, man, you're a lifesaver. You know, I shouldn't be doing this..." the man started.

"I know you shouldn't, but you didn't seem to," Albert interjected.

"I mean, I was trying to quit - that's why I didn't have any on me - but then I smelled your smoke and, hey, thanks, man," the stranger rambled, while Albert put the cigarette into his mouth and lit it.

"Well, that's a shame. I never understood why creatures with such limited lives as men deprive themselves of the few pleasures available to them."

"Well, there's cancer, for one thing."

Albert could no longer contain his amusement and let out a snicker. "Cancer? That takes me back. I had that once, you know. They say there's no cure for it - one of the many lies that you tell each other - when really most people just like the cure less than the disease and are too cowardly to take care of their own problems. "

"I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I fucking know! That's the problem with talking to you people - you don't know anything! But ever since my own kind cast me out, you're all I've had to talk to!"

"Your own _kind_?" the stranger thought for a second. "Do you mean British people or gay people?"

Albert sighed more deeply. He knows that ten years ago, the wizards would have either killed him or sent him away to some foreign prison for even saying as much as he had, as if any of these pitiful creatures had any capacity to understand him. What's sadder, he knew that if they weren't already trying to kill him, he actually would have cared. Moreover, he knew that trying to have an intelligent conversation with an ignoramus like this man was futile.

"So," Gendolf offered, "have you seen anything good on television lately?"

The stranger suddenly turned his head. "Is somebody making birdcalls?"

"That is the loudest damn owl I have ever heard! Whoever sent it wants me to know. He's challenging me."

The owl flew up through a sewer grating, still carrying the letter in its talons. It stopped in front of Albert and cocked its head suspiciously.

"The bird? Is challenging you?"

"Yes, quite brazenly. Appearing in public like this, with all of the prana this thing is emanating, is an unusual tactic. However, if its master wants a fight, he will not find me unprepared. I merely need to dispel some of the energy."

Albert raised his wand and uttered the incantation, sending the magical energies stored in the familiar shooting violently out from its center. In a flurry of feathers, the beast was vaporised.

"Holy shit!" the bystander cried out. "Did you do that?"

Albert didn't answer. He climbed aboard his broomstick and took to the sky. A crowd of people gathered around, asking each other what had happened, trying to piece together some sense from the rain of feathers that had once been a bird. Only Albert's conversation partner noticed the letter that had been dropped and reached for it to try to find some explanation for what he had just seen. He opened the letter expectantly, but found to his disappointment that the contents were completely illegible.

Albert, meanwhile, was in a hurry. He didn't have much time to follow the trail of magical energies to its source while it was still fresh. He knew he would have to leave the city, perhaps find another country, but first he had a hunter to eliminate. It was just common sense to leave a corpse as an example to dissuade any others from trying to follow him. As he reached the rooftop where the trail ended, he muttered defensive spells and prepared to administer a fatal shock to whoever he found on the roof.

Suffice it to say that Albert was surprised at the diminutive figure he found huddled in the corner of that roof. Of course, wielders of magic powers take many forms, but this seemed to be a child. What child would dare to challenge him? He couldn't see her face. She had long purple hair with black tips and her head was bowed as if in prayer.

She lifted her head as Albert alit. As soon as she saw him, she stood up and squared her shoulders, trying to look threatening. There was no mistaking now that this was a little girl - she looked no more than fourteen years of age. She wore carefully ripped jeans tucked into knee-high black boots and a faded Slipknot t-shirt. She put on a gravely solemn face, but the mixture of mascara and blood that stained her cheeks betrayed that she was not as collected as she wanted him to think she was.

"I see you got my message," she said. "My name is Enoby Dark'ness Dementia Tara Way."


	3. Chapter 2

Albert was instantly deflated. "I know," he grumbled. "You look just as callow and insipid as the first time my eyes had the displeasure of being greeted with your visage. As much as I've tried to forget, I still remember you."

"Well, good," said Enoby. "Because, you know, it's been a while, and I wasn't sure and sometimes people just, you know..."

"Get to the point, whelp," growled Albert. "Are you here to kill me? I assure you that won't be an easily accomplished task. Perhaps you're looking for a fight with someone capable of ending your miserable, futile life?"

Enoby was shocked. "What? No. You're such a fucking drama queen sometimes. I just, it's, I need your help, ok?"

"Oh, that's droll," Albert chortled. "You honestly expect me to help you? Have you forgotten how to tie your shoes or something?"

"No, you old bag of farts! It's Drago! He's missing. I woke up one night and he was gone, leaving no trace. I couldn't even contact him, you know, telekinetically. With my brain."

"If you had a brain, maybe you would know that the word is 'telepathically,'" Albert shot back.

"OMFS!" Enoby cried, exasperated. "You knew what I meant! Why do you have to be such a fucking dickhole all the time? What the fuck did I ever do to you?"

"You mean besides using the campus as your own personal bordello?"

"Oh, I'm so sorry that you could never get your rocks off, so you take it out on the students, you impudent old prune. You're just like all of those preppy assholes, always judging me because I dress Gothic and listen to MCR and don't fit into your fucking Hillary Duff Disney Princess idea of what a girl is supposed to act like. You hated me from the second I showed up at your stupid school, you and everyone else."

"That's a laugh! We gave you every chance to fit in and make friends. Doris was so proud, you know, when you first came. How progressive and inclusive to welcome refugees from across the pond! It wasn't enough to seek out our kind across all of Europe, now we were taking in the Western hemisphere's refuse. Even I thought it would be nice to expand our community, fool that I was. Then, your first year there, whenever something went wrong, whenever there was trouble, it was always the bloody Americans at the center of it! And it never ended!"

Enoby stood her ground, "Well, did you ever think of it from my perspective? How hard it was for me being the only American in a school full of weird foreigners?"

"You were the weird foreigner, you ignorant trollop!" Albert shrieked. "And you weren't the only one! Don't you remember that other American you were always hanging around with... Helena?"

"Willow," Enoby insisted. "Her name was Willow."

"Why did you call her that, anyway?" Albert posed.

"It's from Buffy!" Enoby rolled her eyes. "I swear to Satan, you fossils don't understand anything that isn't 200 fucking years old."

"Oh, excuse me that I don't get your references to American television shows. That's certainly much more cultured than the books you were assigned to read and never got around to!"

"You're not my fucking headmaster any more, Dumbledick. You don't get to lecture me."

"That's right, I'm not. That means I don't have to help you with your boyfriend problems, either. Thank you for wasting my time. If nothing else, you have shown me the value of better covering my tracks." With that, Albert turned around and walked to the edge of the roof.

"Wait!" Enoby called after him. "I know something you might find useful!"

Albert paused and turned sceptically. "Oh really? You will excuse me if I find that hard to believe. What could you possibly know that I don't already?"

"I know a lot of stuff," Enoby sneered. "I know that you are not happy living on the run, I know that assholes like you never offer help without expecting something in return, and, most importantly, I know where Professor Sinister is."

"You mean Trevolry? That flaky, doped-up lunatic? You..." Albert's voice suddenly became hushed. "You know what happened to her?"

A self-satisfied smirk formed on Enoby's face, knowing she had captured her elder's attention. "Unlike some people, she values loyalty and is willing to help out an old friend. I bet I could get her to do you a favour if you behaved yourself."

"All right," said Albert. "It's a deal. I'll check the aether for any sign of Drago. I assume you brought some personal belonging of his."

Enoby snickered. "Well, duh. I'm not a total noob." She grabbed a black backpack festooned with rock bands' patches from behind her, reached inside and pulled out a pair of black, brief-styled underpants. Albert cringed at the sight. "What in God's name is the meaning of this?" he gasped.

"I knew you would want something of his to track him. These should be very potent. They were in close contact with him. They're practically soaking in his prana."

Albert shuddered. "It isn't the prana it's been soaking in that worries me." Reluctantly, he took the used intimates between his thumb and forefinger and held them at arm's length. He took out the crystal ball from his bundle and concentrated deeply, all while giving the impression of a man holding back a throat full of vomit.

"Very interesting," Albert muttered. "I see no trace of his body, living or dead. It's as if someone attempted to erase any evidence that he ever existed. Of course, his very lack of presence in the aether is in itself evidence of a spell of hiding." Albert fell more deeply into a trance-like state. "I've worked with magics like this before. In fact, this seems to be the work of one of my own former students. Oh, yes, there is an energy left in the location from which these underthings came - a feminine energy with a very familiar signature. It seems that you have a powerful enemy in an old acquaintance of ours."

Enoby leaned in and offered, "Do you think it's Britney?"

"Of bloody course it's Britney sodding bleeding Cunningham!" Albert snapped, jerking from his trance.

"Well, ok," said Enoby. "If you've identified the spell, you just need to break it and I can go rescue him."

"I'm afraid I cannot break the spell on my own," Albert sighed, tossing the underwear at Enoby's feet. "The enchantment was sealed by Britney's whole coven. As for me, I am already depleted from my defensive spells cast in anticipation of a duel."

"Oh," Enoby bitterly snarled as she gathered up her things. "I should have known you would be useless. Well, goodbye forever."

"Do not be so hasty! I didn't say that I wouldn't help you, only that I couldn't do it alone. Actually, I relish the opportunity to disrupt Britney's machinations. I will join you on your quest."

"Seriously? You want to travel with me to find Drago? What makes you think I would even want you hanging around?"

"That is not your decision to make. You would be foolish to take on Britney's whole coven unaided. Though I know full well that foolish is your established modus operandi, I very much doubt that Trevolry would be willing to grant me a boon if I had let you get yourself killed. Now come along while the night is still young."

"Why? Where are we going?"

"Don't you know? We have a concert to get to."


	4. Chapter 3

The Death Dealers had been around the punk music scene for the past couple of decades. Their sound had been through some changes over the years, especially when their frontman passed away and they decided not to replace him. Their transition from emotional rock to ethereal instrumentals had alienated some of their fans, but they remained culturally important, not only because of their music's influence. Unbeknownst to the general public, the Death Dealers are a wizard rock band.

The band was formed by Hogswords students and although they gained some following in the secular world, their shows had become a meeting ground for various types of magical creatures. It is well known among the wizard community that a Death Dealers concert is a place where wizards and witches and werewolves and wyrms could gather knowing that any supernatural happenings would be quickly and discreetly hidden by the others in attendance. Albert had taken to keeping track of their tours in the last decade. Though he found the music almost unbearably pretentious, his own tastes tending more toward catchy dance music, it was important for him while he was hiding among mortals to be aware of where their world and that of his former life intersected.

Albert arrived at the concert wearing a long black overcoat, with his long black hair slicked back revealing a pronounced widow's peak and his beard neatly tapered to a point. He wore a sinisterly mischievous expression that would let others know that whatever he had planned, it was certainly no good. He knew what trouble he was looking for, and anyone who wished to join him in his quest would have to be ready for it.

Albert left Enoby sulking in a corner. He told her that she would have to keep her distance for a bit and she replied snidely that she didn't need to be told twice. He headed to the bar and ordered a gin and tonic. Sipping at his drink slowly, Albert surveyed his surroundings. One woman in particular caught his eye - a dirty blonde with a miniskirt and a tight t-shirt, just slightly older than the typical concert crowd. As she went to the bar to order a whiskey sour, Gendolf approached her.

"I noticed the accent, luv," he said. "Not from around here?"

"Glasgow, actually."

"So I take it that you've been following the Dealers for a while."

"Oh, yeah. I saw them when they opened for Good Charlotte. I try to catch them whenever they're in the States now. Of course, it hasn't been the same since we lost Tom Bomb. He was so out there, like he was from another world."

"Yeah," Albert said, "it was tough for the fans when Darth Vol-"

The woman pressed her finger to Albert's lips and admonished, "We don't use that name!"

Albert paused for a moment and then continued, "My mistake. It was hard for the fans to cope when Tom died."

The woman looked directly into Albert's eyes. "I never said he died - we just lost him. I heard he moved in with Richey Edwards - you know, right across the street from Andy Kaufman."

Albert smirked. "Then I will be ready for his solo album or at least his next plan to destroy the world. I'm Albert, by the way."

"I'm Karen."

Just then, Albert grabbed Karen by the back of her head and pulled her in and kissed her intensely on the mouth. Karen was surprised at first, then she relaxed and accepted as his tongue manoeuvred its way into her mouth, before he pulled away from her.

Karen gasped, "What was that for?"

"I thought we both would like that," Albert said, then leaned forward and added, "You can't tell me that I was wrong."

"I-" Karen started. "I-"

That was all she managed to get out before Albert grabbed her waist with one hand and pressed his lips once again against hers. With his other hand, he ran his fingers through her hair gently. She held him in a firm embrace as their tongues intertwined and battled inside their mouths.

"I don't -" Karen started again, then finally composed herself enough to finish a sentence. "That was nice."

"That," Albert said, taking her hand and kissing it once, "was only the beginning."

Albert took her and led her by the hand into the basement, where the bathrooms were. He took her through the bathroom door, locking it behind him, then pushed her against the wall, grabbing onto her butt with one hand while reaching up her shirt with the other and firmly cupping her breast. She moaned slightly as he traced her nipple with his fingertip. Karen pressed her lips against Albert's and ran her hand down his side before unbuttoning his pants. She reached down the front of his pants and stroked his hard dick while he expertly reached behind her and unfastened her bra.

Breaking away from the kiss, Albert threw off Karen's shirt and bent down to lick her erect nipples. Karen ran her fingers along Albert's spine and squeezed his member excitedly. Albert's mouth worked its way back up her chest, stopping to kiss her neck before returning to her lips. He undid Karen's pants and slipped his hand inside, poking two fingers into her wet, awaiting opening. He nibbled at her ear and whispered into it, "I want to taste the wetness inside you."

Karen moaned as Albert softly stroked her engorged clitoris. He started to lower his head again, kissing her cheek, then, when he reached her neck again , he opened his mouth widely. Karen inhaled sharply as Albert punctured her neck with his teeth and pushed his fingers deeper inside her, massaging her internally. Albert savoured the taste and the feeling as he sucked at her wound and Karen began losing her strength. Her grip on his penis loosened and soon, she could no longer stand on her own legs. Albert crouched over her when she fell, sucking the thick fluids escaping from her vein.

When her neck had offered its last, Albert finished himself off with a few tugs of his dick, leaving a splash of semen on her chest before using a small fraction of the magical energy he had extracted from her to stash her body in a pocket dimension. He cleaned himself off as best he could and checked himself in the mirror, then walked back upstairs to collect Ebony. When he reached the corner where he had left her, he saw that she had struck up a conversation with a lanky young man in a polo shirt and khakis. He had a five o'clock shadow and his short, dark brown hair had obviously not seen a comb in days. His eyes were the kind of violet that can only be achieved with the help of contact lenses. Albert looked him over for a second before addressing him, "Harold?"

The young man chuckled nervously and said, "Come on, Mr. Gendolf, you know nobody calls me that. I prefer the name Vampire."


End file.
